


Till Death Do Us Part

by Know_Love_To_Avoid_The_Landfall



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29096508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Know_Love_To_Avoid_The_Landfall/pseuds/Know_Love_To_Avoid_The_Landfall
Summary: TW: attempted rape at the beginning!Trying something out, sorry if too OOC.
Relationships: Daud (Dishonored)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Till Death Do Us Part

_3 rd Day, Month of Timber, 1836_

Somewhere in the Estate District, a couple was wedded at noon. The ceremony was short and simple, as was the case for most arranged marriages; it was all mere formality, with the real energy spent in the celebration afterwards.

The chatter and laughter was abundant amongst the wedding party at the dinner table, except for the wife. In fact, the woman named Ophelia Wickham, née Landgale, was the only one who felt miserable. She felt defeated by life, which was about to throw her into that trap of a wedding with this horrible man, Walter Wickham.

Later in the evening, the newly-wed couple had reached their new marital residence; Walter's apartments. Ophelia felt dread as she stood silent behind him while he fumbled to open the front door to the place that would be her home for the rest of her life.

“After you, _wife_ ,” he slurred with a strange smile; the alcohol had taken its toll. His emphasis on the last word made her shudder. It's almost like he revelled in it, after months of fruitless interactions between them, that she had been systematically cutting short.

She muttered a quick and polite thank you as she resentfully entered the lavish apartment.

Never had she felt so worried at the sound of a lock clicking shut behind her until now. She knew what was coming next. She knew he would want to consume the wedding, and she knew he wasn't going to listen.

She tensed as she felt hands on her shoulders, then his body against hers as he breathed in her neck.

“Walter...dear,” the woman forced the word out of her mouth, “Could we please not do this tonight? Please?” She meekly asked, trying to keep the situation calm.

It didn't seem to work, however, as the man pushed her against the wall rather violently, his hands now trying to undress her.

Overwhelmed with the sudden urge to flee, Ophelia abruptly pushed him away with a yell, then ran into the first room she found with the intention to lock herself in, but Walter was quick to catch up.

“Oh no, you don't,” were his words, full of malice, as he violently yanked her on the floor.

Then he was on her again, pinning her hands above her head. Tears were streaming down her face as she begged him to let her go, but he paid no mind to her pleas. They got louder when he freed a hand to go back to fumbling with her garments, on her lower body this time.

Her mind had been screaming at her too, shouting to fight back, and it was during a brief moment of lucidity that she mustered all her strength to free a hand from his grasp.

She went for his face, scratching away as she wriggled herself free from under him, and took her chance to escape. She didn't even have time to stand up, however, as Walter lunged on her.

“How _dare_ you!” He slapped her, then tried to hold her still, but to no avail; she was actively trying to break free from his restraint, kicking and shouting.

He closed his hands around her neck to shut her up. She tried to struggle again, but he tightened his grip, cutting the air flow effectively. She could see her vision darken as she lost all strength, and, as she closed her eyes, she thought this was the end.

What Ophelia couldn't see while she thought she was facing the Void, was the man that had silently entered the room, promptly took hold of Walter's head, covering the mouth, and pulled him away from the woman. The intruder then quickly and cleanly plunged a blade in the side of Walter' neck, letting out a spiteful “ _bastard_ ”, as his target briefly choked before falling limp with a dull thud. He then briefly glanced at the woman regaining her senses, and exited the room.

Meanwhile, the sudden rush of air in her throat caused Ophelia to break into a fit of coughs as she shifted into a more comfortable position to regain her breath. She cried for a solid minute afterwards, scared she had almost died, happy she hadn't. She then finally analysed the scene she was in and figured out why her attacker had let go; he appeared to be dead, lying in a pool of his own blood.

Ophelia couldn't budge. She was sat on the floor, staring at the fresh corpse with wide eyes and a torn mind. Part of her felt horrified, but the other part felt...immensely grateful she had been given another chance at life.

Then, noises from inside the apartment broke her train of thought; Whoever had saved her was still here. The noises resumed coming from the study this time. Ophelia took a deep breath, and quietly stood up, making the decision to investigate.

She silently walked out of the room she was in, carefully avoiding the body, then tiptoed to the side of the door frame. When she peeked it, a cold shiver ran through her spine; inside the study was a rather imposing man, wearing a red coat, standing with his back turned to her.

Indeed, the man had his attention focused on the issue in front of him; Walter's locked safe.

_Is he some kind of officer_ , she thought, trying to figure his attire out as he moved on to rummage through a stack of notes from a nearby desk.

The woman wondered if she should make her presence known, and while initiating conversations with strangers wasn't something she particularly liked to do, she had this...feeling about him. Besides, he had just saved her life; he might have been waiting for her to gather herself before any introductions. To this, she made her mind by stepping into the door frame.

“E-Excuse me...” She cautiously spoke up, trying to not startle him. However he quickly turned on his feet to face her, at the ready, swiftly unsheathing his blade. Ophelia flinched at the sight of the weapon and at the menacing aura that emanated from him, but she remained calm, as she studied his face. He had strong features, a noticeable scar and unusual, piercing grey eyes, along with an unamused expression. No one she knew, yet he still felt familiar, somehow.

“Hm. You.” The older man stared at the woman he had inadvertently saved. He scanned her face. From her features he deduced she was of Serkonan descent, as he never failed to recognise when someone shared his land of origin.

He tried to spot any foul play that could be coming from a seemingly defenceless and dishevelled woman; no-one would remain that serene in the presence of a man like him, especially if they recognised him. He relaxed a little, however, as he found no ill-intent, only a now shaken soul. She was harmless, just as he initially suspected.

“Um...Thank you for saving my life, sir.” She broke the silence as fidgeted with her hands, feeling slightly awkward. Then it clicked.

“Oh Void, you're-...” She whispered, as she took a step back, giving away how oblivious she had been.

She knew who he was now. She had heard about him, like everyone else. She'd seen the wanted posters. That man was _Daud_. He was the most feared and wanted man in Dunwall, and she had casually gone to talk to him.

“The safe combination,” he calmly started, his gruff voice making her jump slightly this time, “Do you know it?”

Ophelia bit her lip as she broke eye contact, unnerved by his gaze. Her mind was racing again, now scared he'd kill her if she said no. Her face changed from fearful to hopeful, however, as she remembered she indeed _knew_ the safe combination.

“Seven three nine.” She spoke as she straightened her posture. She even dared taking one step forward.

Daud scanned her again at her sudden brashness. He'd admit it, he was slightly surprised at how the woman still hadn't fled as most people would. Then again, he knew he inspired some other folk. Confidence suited her better, at least, he allowed himself to think.

Daud then returned to the lock and input the three numbers. The safe mechanism unravelled itself with its familiar clicking, allowing the heavy door to slowly squeak open. He smirked. Wasn't such a bad idea to have left her alive, after all.

Ophelia leaned to the side, trying to see what was inside as well. Amongst the obvious money, she saw him pull out what, to her, looked like an odd-looking item, with equally odd markings engraved on it. It seemed to emit this strange hum and black smoke, too. She blinked a few times, thinking it was a trick of her mind, but didn't have any more time to examine the object, as Daud safely stored it inside his coat. She stared into space, reflecting about this artefact.

“I'll let you off, then, this time.” He turned back to her. He noticed how she let out a breath in relief.

He then walked to the door with a brisk space, giving her just enough time step aside to let him through. One step out of the door frame, however, he stopped again.

“What's your name?” He decided he'd inquire. For future records. She looked up at him, appearing surprised he'd ask.

“...Ophelia. Well, Ophelia Wickham, really, but I prefer Ophelia.” she answered after a brief pause, but with enthusiasm and a faint smile, that somehow made Daud feel...something.

He let out a short hum, partially to acknowledge her answer, partially reacting to what he just felt. He quickly pushed it in the back of his mind, however, as he was ready to depart. Maybe he'd dwell on in later.

“Farewell, then, Ophelia.” He said with a hint of casualness in his tone, slightly humouring her with a smirk on his lips. He then vanished into smoke before she could even reply, leaving her wide-eyed instead, wondering how he had done that.


End file.
